Horses
She sits up high, up on the horse
And sweeps her hand along the coarse
White hide sticks to the hand of hers
Gently bounces, dressage, no spurs
Arches her back, her arms out straight
Trots along the length of the gate
Her body moves, one with the horse
Flow with the movement, with the force
Hair tosses, begin to canter
With grace she rides, grace rides with her
Hold back the reins, the horse he slows
And from their mouths, the breath it blows
Remove the saddle from his back
Carry it to the barn and stack
The warm horse-sweated saddle down
Tired smile, no room for frown
In that beautiful mouth yours
Like oceans crashing on the shores
And your eyes, they steal the sunset
Or the sunset, it stole your eyes
|